


love me the same

by thewonderzebra



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anxiety is a beast, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Mention of injury as well, Referenced Panic Attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 10:51:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15580344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewonderzebra/pseuds/thewonderzebra
Summary: Watching his team play while he is sidelined with an injury, Patrice breaks down. He worries Brad only fell in love with him for his hockey skills, even though that is far from the case.





	love me the same

Injury does not discriminate when one plays professional sports. Patrice is no exception. However, he has been lucky in that he has been able to play through or quickly rehabilitate his injuries. He wonders if he is naïve, to think he will always be able to do this, or if he has just been lucky. It turns out to be the latter, as his luck eventually runs out. 

After sustaining a spiral fracture from his hip down to his knee, Patrice is unable to stand on two legs, never mind skate. He is stuck at home on injured reserve, unable to rehabilitate for at least eight weeks. For the first seven days, Patrice is lucky enough to catch a bye week, in which Brad stays home with him, picking up the slack around the house in terms of cooking, cleaning, and laundry, and cuddling with him at every opportunity to lift his spirits while they read or watch TV. 

When Brad goes back to the ice, Patrice is left alone--in the house and with his thoughts--more frequently. Brad makes sure everything Patrice needs is set up so he can access it easily without putting weight on his leg, though he also makes it clear that he will come running home as quickly as he can if Patrice needs anything. This makes the transition into being alone during practice and game days far easier for Patrice than anticipated. However, access to creature comforts isn't everything, and can't distract him from his own thoughts. 

One night, as he is watching the team play on TV and trying to ignore the pain radiating sharply from his leg, anxiety begins to creep up on Patrice. He tries to push it aside, tries not to dwell. But then Pasta scores a goal and he watches Brad skate over and practically pick up the younger man with excitement. On any given day, the sight of his other half taking on more than his small frame can really handle would be enough to make Patrice dissolve into laughter and shake his head at the ridiculousness of it all. Tonight, however, it only serves to add fuel to the fire of his mind's downward spiral. 

Patrice thinks for some time about the underlying cause of his current anxieties, trying to concentrate both on his thoughts and watching the game. The realization comes when he finds himself shouting indignantly at a penalty that never gets called against the visiting team. Life moves in unexpected ways, so Patrice is sure of very few things. One of those sureties is that he was born to be a hockey player. It could be that he is told this fact frequently, but over the years, he has come to believe it for himself. 

The current source of his racing thoughts and rigid muscles stems from that knowledge. As he watches Brad skate, maneuvering around opponents and passing to teammates, Patrice feels his heart ache with how much he misses being on the ice. He misses talking and laughing and playing with his teammates. He misses the thrills of the game, and even the disappointments. But most of all, he misses skating with the knowledge that Brad is at his side, matching his plays and backing his decisions, ready to celebrate the victories and give encouragements after disappointments, these always sealed with a kiss out of sight of the crowd. 

While he is always happy to watch Brad shine, Patrice can't help but feel sick as his mind wanders. He thinks back on every hug and kiss they have shared, every time Brad shouts compliments, and he wonders what it might feel like to not have that on the ice. Deep down, he knows Brad loves him for who he is. He does. But his leg hurts, he is currently alone, and the darkest parts of Patrice's mind ask him about the possibility that his linemate only fell for him because he is a hockey player. The thought terrifies him, if only due to the prospect--albeit an unrealistic one--of losing Brad, should the worst happen and his leg force him into early retirement. 

After coming to this decidedly sinister realization, watching the game becomes more background noise than it is a focus of Patrice's attention. He spends the remainder of the game and the following post-game analysis stressing and brooding in a vicious cycle of quietly crying and staring listlessly out the window. Dramatic, perhaps, and in a fashion that would give even Brad a run for his money, but Patrice finds he can't quite bring himself to care. It is in this cycle that he stays until his other half arrives home. 

As per usual, Brad comes home in an utter whirlwind. Since the Bruins won, the left winger is in a good mood, so the whirlwind is a happy one. Patrice can hear him kicking off his shoes and putting away his outerwear, talking himself through his normal routine as well as singing and humming at a volume that could be considered quiet, but only for those who know Brad. Even still, Brad's mood and his noise are in sharp contrast to Patrice's silent brooding, and Patrice tries his best to pull himself together before Brad reaches the bedroom; he doesn't want to put a damper on his other half's excitement. 

When Brad appears in the doorway, he is still far enough away that Patrice can wave without raising suspicion. So, he does, and this prompts Brad into a greeting which is closely followed by an animated retelling of the highlights of the game as he bustles around the bedroom, pulling off his clothes and changing for bed. (This buys Patrice a little more time to attempt to quell his own anxiety and put on a happy face). 

"Oh, Patrice, did you see that sick feed I sent to Kruger at the beginning of the third?" Brad asks excitedly, pausing as he grabs for his pajama pants. Patrice nods, absentmindedly recalling seeing that play and hearing the announcers get excitedly about the goal, but though the memory is recent, it is fuzzy. He doesn't dare open his mouth to speak, though, nor do any thoughts of telling Brad of his recent panic-induced brooding cross his mind. He doesn't trust his voice not to break. 

Eventually, Patrice is faced with the inevitable, as Brad settles enough to brush his teeth and then come crawl into bed. "So, how are you feeling?" Brad asks, shifting beneath the covers to be able to face Patrice and be comfortable. When Patrice doesn't answer and looks away shyly, Brad rolls closer; he never had been good at personal space, not that Patrice had ever minded. "Patrice? What's wrong?" 

Without being able to stop himself, Patrice shakes his head and breaks into sniffles, feeling tears sting his eyes and roll down his cheeks. He feels somewhat embarrassed at breaking down, but he certainly doesn't want to hide from Brad, the one person who knows him better than Patrice knows himself. "What would happen if…if I wasn't a hockey player?" Patrice finds himself blurting out, his voice raw and shaky. "What if you were out there playing every night without me, and came home to some domesticated version of me? Would you still love me, Brad?" 

From what he can see in the darkened room and through his blurring vision, Brad looks momentarily floored. Then, he wraps his arms around Patrice, and pulls him close, mindful of his injured leg. Patrice buries his face in Brad's chest and quietly sobs, while Brad kisses his head gently and rubs his back. "Of course I would," the left winger replies. "Why would you think otherwise?" 

Patrice shrugs, hoping Brad can distinguish the motion from the tears causing him to shake. "I don't know," he says, sniffling. He wants to keep to himself, to try and make Brad work harder for the answer Patrice spent hours dwelling on, but he can't. He spends hours being strong for others and keeping his emotions to himself to be a better leader for the team; he doesn't have to for Brad. 

"I was watching you play and wishing I could be out there," Patrice continues. "And my leg was hurting. I don't know what got to me, but I just thought about if I can't rehab my leg, you know? You fell in love with a hockey player, and if I can't heal, I won't be a hockey player anymore." 

A brief silence overtakes them, during which Brad places a few more kisses to Patrice's head while Patrice shudders, trying to force himself to stop crying. When the tears are flowing less violently, Brad speaks. "First of all," he says quietly. "The doctors fixed the fracture, and now you just need to give it a few more weeks before you can start rehab. You're going to heal fine." 

Patrice considers interjecting that he knows this, but somehow it is soothing to hear of Brad's faith in his recovery. Besides, he knows Brad will have more to say. Of course, his other half fails to disappoint. 

"Second of all," Brad continues, a bit more loudly and insistently. "I fell in love with you, Bergy. Yeah, you're a hockey player, and you're my linemate, but you're so much more than that to me. You always have been, you know? It doesn’t matter whether you're on the ice, on coaching staff, or home on the couch. I love you…always have, always will." 

Patrice begins sobbing all over again, though this time it is for an entirely different, far happier reason than anxiety. He clings to Brad as tightly as he can, and punctuates his tears with sloppy kisses to Brad's neck, chest, and cheeks. Brad turns his head and kisses Patrice's lips easily, not caring about the taste of saline in the slightest. "There's nothing that's going to make me stop loving you," he reassures Patrice, kissing him repeatedly. "I hate that you thought otherwise, even for a second."

Eventually, Brad's words and his closeness subdue Patrice's anxiety. Feeling exhausted and soothed, with no tears left to cry, Patrice collapses entirely. Brad continues to hold him close, whispering loving words and stroking his back until Patrice feels incapable of moving. His leg doesn't seem like so much of a bother, nor does his mind as he finally drifts off.

**Author's Note:**

> Another one written and published. Sorry for torturing these boys...I just couldn’t help myself. Thanks for indulging me; I hope you all enjoyed reading! Leave some comments down below if you so choose, and feel free to come say hi on tumblr (@thewonderzebra).


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